Darkness of the Tunnel
by Jaredpadaleckey
Summary: Sam's been having nightmares, and when he finally decides to inform his brother, it might be too late. Featuring Sick/Hurt Sam and Protective Dean.
1. Nightmare

It was dark. It was cold. The air around him seemed too restricting, too tight. It was something that he was afraid of, and had no choice but to go there every night.

And it wasn't real.

**OoOoOoO**

Sam's eyes flicked open, sweat dripping off of his forehead. He had been having one of those weird nightmares again.

Sam had been having them for a while, and each one confused him more than the last. It felt _real,_ like he had been there. Sometimes he would hear odd voices, whispering his name.

Feeling something wet on his forehead, Sam jumped. He felt hands on his body as he tried to sit up.

"Shh…" said Dean reassuringly. "Easy there, tiger!"  
Sam felt his body relax as he was pushed back onto the bed. He sighed, and barely even realised Dean still held the cloth on his forehead.

"What's been going on with you lately, Sammy?" his brother asked, concerned. Sam shut his eyes. He had been trying to keep the truth from his brother, considering all of the trouble he had caused him in the past.

Looking down, the younger man shuffled awkwardly.

"Well… I've been having these… nightmares." He said quietly.

"Nightmares?" Dean asked, worried slightly. Nightmares were never good, especially with the Winchesters.

"Yeah. They started a while ago, I think it was after the case with the animal spirits. But they don't feel like nightmares, Dean. It feels like I'm actually… well, _there, _y'know?" he said. He had been planning to lie a little, as to not worry his brother, but once he had started, it was hard to stop.

The bed dipped as Dean sat on it, rubbing his hand across his chin. He breathed out, like he often did when he was confused as to what was happening. The two brothers sat in silence, waiting for the first one to speak.

"Why didn't you tell me this earlier, Sammy?" the eldest asked, quietly. Sam swallowed guiltily. He knew Dean wanted to help him. But Sam just thought that he had brought too much trouble upon this family, what with the trials, premonitions, having no soul, demon blood, the lot.

Sam shrugged, and looked away from his brother.

"M'sorry, Dean… It's just that, well, I'm always in trouble, and you're always there to help me… I thought it would be less trouble and suffering for us, you know?"

Dean seemed to accept this, and decided to forget it.

"Don't worry, Sammy. We'll do something about it." He assured the youngest brother. He stood up from the bed, and hovered over his brother while he clambered out of bed.

"Thanks, De-" Sam began, but he was cut off as his eyes rolled backwards and his body began to make its way to the dirty, stained, motel room floor. Dean caught him just in time, looking concerned.

"Oh, Sammy..." he whispered, slinging his brother's arm over his shoulder. "What have you gotten yourself into now?"

A single groan escaped from Sam's lips, piercing through the eldest brother's heart.

Dean scrolled through his contacts and landed on Bobby. It took three rings when the old hunter finally answered.

"This better be something important, boy…"

"Bobby!" Dean cried. "Bobby, I need your help, Sam told me he's been having these- these nightmares, but he thinks that they feel real, and then-"

"Slow down, Dean. What's happening now?" Bobby asked.

"He just fell, I don't know…"

The last thing Sam heard before everything went dark was,

"I'll be right over."


	2. Assistance

There was a loud, growling noise as Bobby's car backed into the motel driveway at four in the morning on a rainy Tuesday night. He shut off the engine, clambered out of the stolen car, and made his way inside.

"Goddamn boys always getting into trouble..." he mumbled to himself as he entered the dim, odd-smelling motel room. As Bobby shut the door, he could see Dean's worried eyes peering up at him. He was leaning over a figure over the bed, Sam. Pale with dark circles around his eyes, Sam had looked better. He was sprawled across the bed, unconscious.

"Oh God, Bobby, thank God you're here…" Dean said, not leaving his brother. "He won't wake up… he keeps twitching..." and, sure enough, Sam's left arm was jerking and shaking uncontrollably, occasionally lifting itself from the bed just to slam it back down again. Moans kept escaping the youngest Winchester's lips, and his face was covered in sweat, indicating a fever.

Bobby took a seat on the bed next to Sam's, and placed his head in his hands, sighing. Eventually, he looked up. "Alright," he said. "Just tell me exactly what happened."

Dean detached his eyes from his brother and they slowly drifted towards Bobby.

"He says he keeps having these nightmares, but he says it feels like he's actually _there_… and then he just told me everything…. I thought he was alright but he just… I don't know… collapsed."

Bobby stared at Dean for a few seconds while he processed the information he had just been given.

"Don't worry, Dean. We'll work this out. It wouldn't have hurt if you had just told me earlier, though." Bobby said as Dean nodded slightly, turning back to his brother.

Sam's arm had continued twitching through the whole night. Bobby, assuming nothing life-threatening was currently going to happen to Sam, decided to turn in. He asked Dean to shout if anything was wrong.

Dean had stayed awake for as long as he could, his eyes drooping slightly and then snapping back open again. The last time he had slept was two days ago, and that was only for two hours.

And then, although he was reluctant, Dean fell asleep.

**oOoOoOoOoO**

Something about beer… he was swimming in it. There were hot models all around him, and he chuckled as one of the blonde ones swam her way over to him, placed his hand onto his bare chest, leant up to his lips and-

_CRASH! _

Dean scowled as he was rudely ripped from his dream, and reluctantly opened his eyes. Remembering what was happening, he sat up and the scowl was wiped from his face. He leant over to turn onto the lamp, but it wasn't there. But there was something there… Dean gripped onto the mysterious thing, not being able to see in the dark, and he heard a loud moan.

"BOBBY!" He called, and after a considerable amount of grunting and scuffling, the motel room light turned on. He looked at the thing he was grabbing onto, and gasped. It was Sam's hand. But it didn't look like Sam's hand.

His arm was bent at an odd angle, and if you could see through the vast amounts of blood covering it, you could see a bit of bone splintering out of the skin. Sam's face was a pale white, and he had gotten even hotter.

"What the hell, boy?" Bobby said, half-sleepily as he had just woken up. It seemed that Sam's twitching hand had flung out, and broke itself on the lamp. "Now, I may be no genius, but I think that a little trip to the ER could be necessary…"

**oOoOoOoO**

_It was dark- he couldn't see anything apart from his hand when he held it in front of his face. He felt pain in his arm and he didn't know why. He felt too hot, and he had sweat covering his forehead and back. He just kept screaming for Dean, the one person who he knew could keep him safe. But where was he? He was stuck in this dark, gloomy and pain-inducing labyrinth and he was lost and alone. No matter what direction he walked in and how long he walked, he got nowhere. _

"_Sammy…" a voice whispered, making him jump. His name was said in almost a sing-song voice, the syllables held for too long. Suddenly, everything went cold. His sweating turned into shivering. _

_The name kept repeating his name over and over again, until he thought that if he heard it one more time he would kill himself. Then, the voice stopped. _

"_Hello?" he said. But no words came out. And that was when he noticed- he wasn't breathing. _

**oOoOoOoOoO**

"Oh God… Oh God…" Bobby muttered, flooring the accelerator.

"Bobby- drive faster! Oh shit… OH SHIT!" Dean cried. He had been adamant about sitting in the back, cradling his brother's head in his lap.

"What?" Bobby shouted, trying to make himself heard over the loud car.

"He's stopped breathing! Shit shit shit…" Dean said, panic flooding through him.

Bobby's car made a loud screech as it came to a sudden halt in the hospital parking lot. He opened his door before he had stopped the car, and rushed to the two men in the back. Dean was as pale as his brother with fear.

"Alright, help me get him up then, kiddo." Bobby said soothingly, trying to be kind and patient with Dean, who looked more scared than he ever had before. His eyes were wide, and looked like he had been crying. His hair was messy and bed-headed. His eyes were red and he had bags under them.

Dean stood up and slung Sam's arm over his shoulder, and Bobby did the same. They somehow managed to drag Sam indoors.

Someone spotted them, and before they had even stepped through the automatic doors, a gurney was being wheeled out to them. Bobby and Dean gratefully laid Sam down, glad to be rid of the weight. Dean began to follow the nurses and doctors crowded around the gurney, who began to take his brother away.

"Excuse me sir, but you will have to stay behind in the waiting room. We need to perform immediate CPR on this man-"  
"Sam." Dean informed the woman.

"Sam-" she repeated, "and then perform surgery on his arm. We will get back to you as soon as possible."  
Dean decided not to fight because 1) he was tired and 2) they were professionals and knew what they were doing.

So he sat down with Bobby and waited.


	3. Dilemmas

**Hi guys! Thanks for all the support and stuff! I really appreciate all of the follows and favourites! It's my first story on Fanfiction, and I was worried because I didn't know if I was good enough or not. I tried making this chapter longer for you all! Thanks again, lovelies. **

**Other things: I feel like it's going very fast, don't you think? I tried making a different dilemma to kind of slow down my Sammy-beating-up session. I was thinking of adding more injuries, but I didn't want to hurt Sammy too much. Tell me what you think please!**

Dean waited with such impatience that Bobby almost expected him to stand up and storm into the middle of Sam's surgery. He had sat there, tapping his foot and huffing every so often. He kept standing up and pacing the room in anticipation.

"Hey, maybe you should sit down-"Bobby recommended, but stopped when he saw Dean's look of pure disgust. Dean's lack of impatience was beginning to get on his nerves.

Eventually, a man walked into the place where the two anxious men were waiting and looked around before asking;  
"Sam Gillian's family?"

That was the fake name they had given the hospital. You could never be too careful when giving information. Anyone could be waiting to flash black eyes and kill someone. The Winchester's weren't the most secret and stealthy people. Every demon has heard of them, and many crossed their path.

Bobby and Dean stood up thankfully, and followed the doctor, who filled them in with what was happening.

"Sam's surgery on his arm went well, but we can't put a cast on it until the stitches have been removed. We are also hoping that his unconsciousness will be temporary, as he still has not woken. You may stay with him for the time being. We have him in a private room, as he is stabilized and does not need assistance currently."  
He ushered the two men into the room, and told them to press the call button if anything was needed. When he shut the door and left, Dean took a look at his brother.

Sam had gotten even paler, if it was possible. His arm was bandaged, and some bruises were still lingering around the white bandage. He looked small on the bed, and his eyes were still shut. He had tubes and needles sticking into him, and a plastic mask covering the majority of his face.

At the sight of his ill brother, Dean suddenly felt sick. The world around him seemed to spin.

"Dean? Are you okay?" he heard vaguely. He looked up at Bobby, whose face looked concerned.

"I'm fine…" Dean whispered as he headed straight to the floor.

**oOoOoOoOo**

Somebody was calling his name. Well, he thought so anyway. They kept saying _Dean_. That was his name, wasn't it? He felt a hand on his cheek. God, it was hot in there.

"Let me sleep!" he moaned. What actually came out was "Mmph… L'me sl'ph", but the person trying to wake him must have gotten the clue, as he didn't hear his name being said again.

"Well, okay" a gruff voice said, getting quieter and quieter as he began to walk away. "If you don't wanna see Sammy…"

_Sammy,_ Dean thought. Why was that name so familiar? He repeated the name again.

Oh God, Sammy! He remembered everything that had happened, the headache, the dream, the arm. Dean suddenly sat up, but regretted it. A hand fell on his shoulder, and he saw a man in a white coat.

"Mmph… Oh God… I'm gonna be sick" Dean moaned, leaning over. He saw a bin being thrust underneath him, and he emptied his contents into it. When he had finished, he fell back onto the bed, unconscious. All the effort was too much for his sleep-deprived, weak body.

Dean woke up later, more aware of what was happening. He sat up slowly, as to not aggravate his stomach again.

"You're finally awake!" Bobby grunted. "Had enough of your beauty sleep, princess?"

Dean growled slightly, climbing out of his bed and ripping out the IV. He stumbled, Bobby quickly catching him before he fell onto the floor again.

"Thanks, Bobby." Dean sighed. He stood up straighter on his own, wiping a hand across his face. He felt sick, his stomach seeming to do endless flips inside of him. His body felt tired, and sore.

"Sammy…" he groaned, earning a chuckle from Bobby. It was just like Dean to be exhausted and weak, but still determined to see his brother.

"Are you sure you're up for it? I mean, 'ya didn't exactly react well last time"

Dean nodded, and allowed himself to be led once more into Sammy's room. He was still lying there, and hadn't moved an inch apart from his arm, which Dean suspected a nurse or doctor had checked to see if it was still okay.

Dean's stomach did more backflips, but it wasn't something he couldn't handle. He forced his legs not to crumple beneath him at the sight of his unconscious, ill brother. Why was he being so weak? He had seen Sam unconscious before.

_But not like this_, the voice inside of Dean informed him. _Sammy not being able to wake up_, a_nd you can't save him. You're helpless, Dean, unable to help the one you swore to protect._

"NO!" Dean shouted. Bobby looked at him, and he realised that he had shouted it out loud and Bobby probably had no idea why. Dean shook his head at Bobby, who looked confused, and began walking over to Sam.

_**OOoOoOoOoO**_

_It was still so dark. He was so confused and lost, and it seemed that he had been there forever.  
"Just let me go!" he shouted into nothingness, his plead echoing over and over again, getting quieter and quieter each time it repeated. A deep voice chuckled maliciously, and Sam's insides turned._

"_I will be back for more, Sam… And the next time you go to sleep, do not expect to wake up."_

_And then Sam was thrust into light, pain blinding him as he tumbled into the tunnel of light. He landed somewhere soft, bright lights shining onto his closed eyelids._

_**oOoOoOoO**_

He didn't want to open his eyes, but he heard talking and had to know what was going on. He recognized the voices- it was Dean and Bobby. Forcing his eyelids to open, he began to hear footsteps coming towards him.

"Dean?" Sam croaked, barely a whisper. His blue-green eyes struggled to focus, but they fixed on Dean when they did.

Dean chuckled in relief, and embraced Sam. When he heard a groan, he pulled away but kept one hand on his brother's shoulder to show that he was there. But Sam didn't seem to notice. His expression had suddenly turned to fear, and he struggled to get out of Dean's grasp.

"No… Stay away… please" Sam mumbled. Taken aback, Dean removed his hand from Sam's shoulder and backed away, confused. Sam continued to breathe quicker than he should, eyes wide and full of fright.

"Sammy, calm down!" Dean shouted over all of the loud breathing. Sam was going to hyperventilate. Quickly pressing the call button, Dean sighed in relief when the doctors and nurses began to flood into the small room and crowd around Sammy.

He didn't know what they did, but when they stepped away, Sam was falling asleep again. He had tears running down his eyes.

"No… I can't go to sleep..." he moaned. "The voice…. He'll take me again… I won't wake up…"  
Bobby and Dean exchanged confused, concerned glances, and ran towards Sam. Dean held his brother's face in his hand. Sam seemed genuinely scared of going to sleep. Was he telling the truth? Would he fall into sleep again, never to wake up? Dean didn't know the answer, but he figured he'd better keep Sammy awake just to be sure.

But Sam's eyelids were drooping. Whatever drug they had hooked him up to was working fast. Dean looked up at Bobby, who was detaching the drug from Sam.

"Sammy, you've got to stay with us…" Dean said, wavering in and out of Sam's blurry vision. Sam forced his eyelids open, but they continued to rebel against his needs, drooping lower and lower each time.

When Sam's eyes shut completely, they didn't open again. And they wouldn't for a long, long while.


	4. Falling Forever

**Here's an EXTRA LONG (I tried. This took me about two days to write!) chapter for you all. Sorry I couldn't upload this earlier. I have to share this with my computer-obsessed little brother. (although this chapter seems to be lacking hurt!Sam, I will make it up to all of h/c lovers next chapter! Oohhh… Excitement!)**

**Thanks for all the support you guys. I love you all!**

_Sam saw nothing. It was too dark. The silence was unnerving, unnatural. He knew that he was unconscious the first second he had stepped foot into the blackness.__No matter how hard Sam tried to clamber back up to the surface of oblivion, a hand kept pushing him down, preventing him from seeing the ones he loved. He only had one thought in mind- to keep trying-to get back to his brother._

"_Let me go!" Sam cried with despair. He heard a malicious chuckle, sending a chill down his spine. After a few seconds of no answer, Sam decided to try again._

"_I said, LET ME GO!" He shouted, emphasising every word. The voice laughed again, louder and more evil this time. Then Sam felt his stomach drop, none of his body parts touching the surface. He was falling through thin air. He fell for a while longer, before coming to the conclusion that the fall was endless. _

"_I let you go! Is that not what you asked for?" the deep voice said darkly. Sam was beginning to feel too dizzy from all this falling and opened his mouth to scream, but nothing escaped his lips. His heart was pounding. He wondered if this would continue forever, until the day he died. _

_Sam had been tortured before. He had been whipped, beaten, sliced open, and had suffered Hell's punishments more times than he could count. But being thrown down an endless put for the rest of his life was worse than all the times he had been injured all put together. A day would make him stark crazy, let alone a lifetime. _

_All he knew was that he wanted it to stop. _

**oOoOoOoOoO**

After a few failed attempts of trying to wake Sam, Dean had realised that maybe Sam was telling the truth. Maybe he was going to be trapped into his own mind forever. Dean could only imagine how much pain and misery that would bring.

He was curled up into a ball next to Sam's hospital bed. He had been sobbing for a long time. All that came out now were harsh gasps and hiccups. He just wanted Sam back. His Sam, who would complain about Dean's music taste and then mouth along in the Impala. His Sam, who would just curl up into any chair available and read a book all night. His Sam, who would put up with all Dean's imperfections, odd-tastes, complaints, insults and bossiness.

He loved the way how Sam moved restlessly in his sleep. He loved the way how Sam could go from serious to puppy eyes in two seconds flat. He loved the way how Sam would do anything for his big brother. He loved the way how Sam did everything.

And he might not see Sam do it ever again.

Thinking this made Dean's stomach flip over. He had to grip onto the edge of the bed to fight the dizziness and sickness that were threatening him.

He was going to do everything to get Sam back, no matter the consequences.

"Dean?" Bobby said quietly from the back of the room. Dean jumped, forgetting that Bobby was there. Dean stayed on the floor, not finding the energy or motivation to get up.

"We're gonna get him back, kiddo. Don't worry." The old hunter said softly. Dean felt an arm pull him up, but Dean didn't cooperate. He couldn't. He was so full of worry, it was like his body had heard the news about Sam and decided to take a vacation.

"Come on, kiddo, we're gonna go get you nice 'n warmed up in the Impala.."

Dean shook his head. "Mmph… I can't leave Sammy…" he mumbled. He knew that what came out of his mouth didn't sound at all like what he wanted to say, but Bobby seemed to get what he said.

"Dean, staying here with your brother ain't gonna do you no good. It don't look like Sam's gonna wake up for a while yet, I'm sure we'll be doing him a hell lot more o' good if we go and do some research on how to help 'im." Bobby said softly to Dean. Dean barely seemed to be listening, but he got the message and nodded. Seeing that Dean's legs weren't going to cooperate, Bobby screwed all of his and Dean's dignity and scooped up the younger hunter. Dean struggled, trying to get free, but Bobby knew they would be slower if Dean was going to keep stumbling every few seconds.

Bobby felt sorry for Dean. The kid looked like he hadn't slept in days, which was probably true. He was on the edge of unconsciousness, his eyelids half open. His breathing was harsh, but that was most likely from all that crying. His clothes were rumpled, they probably hadn''t been washed in a while. His hair was a bit greasy and stood up, and he had dark circles around his eyes. His face was pale, and Bobby had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from joking about the white colour.

"_You looked like a snowman-" _Bobby could imagine himself saying to Dean in a few days.

"_Shut up, Bobby-_" would probably be Dean's answer.

"_You know, when you were half asleep in my arms"_

The thought made Bobby chuckle slightly, but then he was forced back to reality. He had a grown man in his arms, and he was faced with the challenge of somehow escaping the hospital without being stopped.

To Hell with this, Bobby thought. He would just have to sprint out of the hospital.

And so Bobby did just that. He opened the door (with struggle,) and looked both ways. There were some nurses and doctors patrolling the corridors. Not a lot of visitors, luckily. It was very early in the morning, after all.

Bobby spotted the exit, and re-adjusted Dean in his arms, trying to make the young hunter feel as comfortable as possible. And then Bobby ran. He heard some complaints, and a few doctors tried to stop him, but Bobby kept running, his eyes fixed on the door. Dean mumbled incoherently in his arms. Bobby silently apologised.

He made it out into the crisp fresh air, and ducked behind very thick tree that was stood outside the hospital. The doctors who had chased him out looked around for a bit, and then walked back indoors.

Dean seemed to have slipped into unconsciousness, and Bobby was grateful. This whole experience with Sam was probably tough on the kid.

The old hunter deposited Dean into the back seat of the Impala, letting the young man lie down. Then Bobby sat in the driver's seat, and began the drive back to Dean's motel.

**oOoOoOoO**

_Sam was crying. The tears were falling down his cheeks and disappearing into the air as he dropped down, never stopping. He let the tears come out, and the whimpering noises escape from his mouth. He was filled with true and utter fear, fear that he had never encountered before._

_He had been falling for what seemed like hours. If he was like this now, what would he be like in a few years? Would he be able to sleep? Or would he have to endure every second of this agonising, never-ending torture?_

_He wanted to scream. He wanted to scream until his voice disappeared, until the back of his throat felt like harsh sandpaper. But the force of the wind was preventing that. _

_Sam thought of his brother. He imagined Dean sitting by his bed, trying to awake Sam. He imagined the sleepless nights Dean would have, trying to figure out how to save his brother. _

_Sam held onto that thought tightly. It gave him new determination. He needed to get back to Dean. He would do everything he could to get back to his brother. _

_And nothing was going to get in his way._

**OoOoOoOoO**

Bobby gently eased Dean's unconscious body onto the motel bed that sagged under his weight. The old hunter took off Dean's boots, trying not to wake the sleeping hunter. He took off Dean's outer clothes, and left on Dean's shirt and jeans. Bobby might be willing to carry a sleeping Dean out of a hospital bridal-style, but he wasn't going to see Dean naked.

Bobby picked up Sam's laptop that had been lying on the bedside table. After figuring out how to turn on the dastardly thing, and open internet explorer, Bobby began to search things that might help Sam.

This was going to be a very long night, Bobby thought as he drank some caffeine to keep him awake.

After a few hours of intense research and no results, Bobby perked up as Dean began to groan from the bed.

"Hey, kid?" Bobby said from the small, circular table.

"Yeah?" came the quiet reply.

"You know, when I was carrying you, you looked like the abominable snowman…"

**Mwahaha! Don't worry, this story hasn't finished yet! I think I can still get a few more chapters out of this one.**

**I hope you liked that ending, because when I thought of it, I laughed for about ten minutes straight. I was going to keep it until the end of the story, but my memory is really bad and I probably would have forgotten. **

**I hope you liked this chapter! The next one will be up as soon as possible! I will try and do it before next week. **


	5. The Inevitable

Bobby leaned back into the uncomfortable chair and let out a long sigh. He and Dean had been researching for three days now, and Sam had still woken up. Dean was ignoring the old hunter, probably still angry that he had to be carried out of the hospital.

They still hadn't found anything useful to help Sam. Bobby was beginning to think that there wasn't a way. The only peaceful solution to Sam's problem at the moment seemed to be to put him to rest. It would be much less pain, anyway. He wasn't going to tell Dean, though.

So the day carried on like the other two had. Bobby and Dean didn't talk, apart from the occasional "got anything yet?" to which the answer was always no. It was nearing five in the afternoon, and Bobby was about to talk to Dean about the very real possibility that Sam might not wake up when suddenly Dean gasped. The young hunter tightened his hold on the book he was reading, and pulled it closer to his eyes, re-reading the paragraph to check his mind wasn't playing some kind of trick.

"What is it?" Bobby asked, running over to where Dean was sat and crouching next to the chair to try and read what Dean was so excited about. He read the paragraph, and let out a laugh of relief.

"_Lucidity is a creature that haunts the mind," _the book read, "_it traps a person in their own head, and prevents them from waking up. Their name comes from lucid dreaming; a dream that feels so real it is like you are living it. Lucidity is invisible, and cannot be touched. It has no cause, it just crawls into the brains of random people."_

"That's great!" Bobby chuckled. "But how do we gank it?"

Dean skimmed through the rest of the page that included lots of history on Lucidity, and stopped when he reached the sub-heading "How to get rid of Lucidity".

"Lucidity is killed with great difficulty. You must first drink an African Dream Route, placing some of the Lucidity victim's hair or other part of the body into the concoction. In the dream, you must say the following incantation:

"_Una est, qua unum est summonitionum Dilucidum  
Dilucidum est apparere,  
Apud unum potest sentiunt asinus._

"Then wait until the Lucidity is summoned. You must then attempt to find the source of the 'voice', (Lucidity), and when you can sense the presence, a slight tingling to the left wrist, you must say the following incantation.

"_Qui autem occiderit, hoc quidem canis  
qui, nominibus cum ipso lucido  
unus est frater"  
_"Thank God…" Dean said, leaning back in his chair with relief. They had found something that would save Sam.

**OoOoOoOoOoO**

_Sam was going crazy. He had been falling for days, but it felt like centuries. He was not allowed to sleep, he had to painfully endure every second of this torture. He had nothing to entertain himself with, and all of the determination to get out had quickly faded once he realised there was no way._

_But he still clung on to the one scrap of hope he had- that Dean was trying to save him. _

_The voice seemed to have left for a while- Sam hadn't heard it for a few hours. Every so often the voice would return, taunting him. Sam was just thinking about the voice when suddenly, it returned._

_The male voice was deep, and each word was emphasised and evil. If you listened to it too long, it would be stuck in your head for hours. It was loud, too loud, and every time Sam heard it, it felt like someone had stuck a very powerful speaker in his ear and pressed 'play' on full volume. He had memories of when he was younger, when Dean used to perch by Sam's side while he was sleeping. He would lean in, right next to Sam's head, and scream as loud as he could. The volume of the voice was like that, minus the satisfaction of knowing that his brother was right next to him._

"_I assume that you have realised that you will be stuck here until the day you die…" the voice said. Sam didn't reply. "But it brings me great pleasure to tell you that the day you die is not too far away…"_

_Sam's shook his head in disbelief. He was not going to die, not when he knew that Dean was trying to save him._

"_Yes, you will die, Sam." The voice said. Then Sam remembered. They were in Sam's mind, meaning that the creature could hear every thought of Sam's. _

"_I can make the pit as shallow as I need. I've made yours twenty four hours long. And then you die. Well, you know, after the fun ten minutes after you've fell, where I get to watch you die a painful death from your injuries."_

_Sam felt a tear roll down his cheek. "Why are you doing this?"_

_The voice chuckled. "Because it's fun to watch someone's fear, them falling down a hole, watching them panic as they near their inevitable death. And you know why else?"_

_Sam suddenly felt the urge to scratch his left wrist as a strange tingling sensation covered it. The voice got louder, probably meaning it had gotten closer. Sam could have sworn he could feel the presence of the voice right next to him. _

"_Because I can." It said. And then it was gone, leaving Sam to fall down the pit. _

**OoOoOoOoO**

Bobby looked at Dean, and sighed at the purple bags underneath his eyes. "We can do the Lucidity thing tomorrow" he said. Dean considered this for a second, before shutting the book and walking over to the bed. Sam didn't look like he was going to die any time soon. Although Dean would have preferred to do it as soon as possible, he was tired and didn't really want to risk getting carried by Bobby again. He was sure that Sam could just hang in for a little while longer.

The two hunters had already memorised the incantations ready to use against the Lucidity, gathered all of the required ingredients for the African Dream Root and learnt the instructions on how to gank the thing. They were prepared. Dean ran the incantations over again in his head before accepting sleep.

"Dean, wake up princess!" came the voice of Bobby, followed by a sudden outburst of light. Dean squinted his eyes open to see Bobby opening the curtains to reveal sunlight. Dean grunted to inform Bobby that he was awake, and began to clamber out of the bed.

Dean headed for the cupboard, and pulled out a few pieces of bread. They were stale, but they would have to do. He hadn't bothered to go and get more food.

Eating his'breakfast, Dean went over their plan for the day. Bobby was re-reading the page on Lucidity.

"Shit!" Bobby hissed from the other side of the room. "We should've read the whole page instead of just a few bits…"

"Why? What's up?" Dean asked, finishing his bread.

"The ritual to gank the thing can only be used at night, at 11:40 at night. Don't know why it's so damn specific."  
Dean sighed. Great. Now Sam was going to have to endure another few hours.

**OOoOoOoOo**

_Still falling… Sam doubted that if he ever was saved by Dean in time that his muscles would work very well. He had been counting the time roughly; he only had about twelve hours left. Twelve hours for Dean and Bobby to try and figure out how to save him. Sam was beginning to lose hope. They had no idea that he only had a few hours left, and were probably taking their time. God DAMN it. Why did these things always happen to the Winchesters? I mean, apart from the monster killing and stuff, they were good guys._

_The voice wasn't talking, but Sam could feel its presence. He figured that the tingling on his wrist was probably some sign. He remembered reading something about a tingling sensation when the presence of a certain monster is around, but for the life of him he couldn't remember what. _

_He tried to think of some happy things. It was probably going to be his last day on Earth, so he wanted to think of those he loved. _

**OOoOoOoOo**

**2 hours left**

The two hunters in the motel room hadn't done a lot that day but hope that everything would go okay during the venture into Sam's mind. They both knew that Sam wouldn't be in good shape when,_ if,_ he got out.

There was an odd feeling that Dean quite couldn't place his finger on. He felt like something wasn't quite right. But the incantations had been memorized and the African Dream Root created- What could go wrong?

Oh, if only Dean knew.

**Twenty Minutes Left**

_Only twenty minutes until his death. The voice had told him. And he still had not been saved. Sam had lost all hope now. He was just going to have to accept his death, no matter how unwilling he was._

"_You're going to fall at eleven thirty eight, you know." The voice chuckled, making Sam wonder why he was telling him. "Even if your friends have figured out how to kill me, it will be no use. I can only be killed at forty minutes past eleven. By the time they have come here, you will be dying from your injuries. And, that's if they have figured out how to do so."_

_Then Sam remembered who the creature was. "Lucidity" he whispered to himself. _

_Maybe Dean and Bobby had figured out how to kill it. Maybe they would be able to kill it in time, before Sam died of his injuries. The voice said he had ten minutes before he died, right? Maybe that ten minutes would save his life, not destroy it. _

_**Ten minutes left**_

Bobby and Dean were at the hospital. They were standing next to Sam's bed, and had already placed the hair in the two glasses. Dean was staring at his watch, counting every second until it was time to enter Sam's mind. They had both decided that after they had drunk the dream root, they would both knock each other out with two baseball bats they had found in the garbage can outside the motel. It would be painful, but they knew that Sam was probably in more pain.

They still had three minutes.

**Three minutes until 11:40… One until the drop**

_Sam's heart was hammering in his chest. His eyes were squeezed shut, preparing for the inevitable. He felt like sobbing, but that wouldn't do much good. His breathing was too fast, but soon he knew that it might not be there at all. He was unconsciously making strange whimpering sounds quietly. _

_His insides were turning. His brain wasn't working properly. _

_And then, with a big crack, Sam's body hit the ground. _

**Two minutes until the ritual. **

"You sure you're ready?" Bobby asked, turning to Dean. But Dean didn't answer. His mouth was open, his eyes were wide. Bobby turned round, trying to see what was wrong. And then he gasped.

_Sam._

The bed he was lying on was covered in blood. One of his legs was at an odd angle, and so was his wrist. His chest had sunken in in some places, indicating broken ribs. His face was covered in blood.

"Oh my God… " Bobby said quietly. He knew they had to do this quickly. Sam was going to die. He'd say that judging by his injuries, he had about eight minutes left. Eight minutes to knock each other out, enter Sam's mind, summon and find the damn thing, and gank it.

This was not going to be easy.


	6. Lucidity

**Hi guys! So I have been putting this off for God knows how long- sorry! I think there is probably one chapter left of this story... I'm excited! So, last chapter was about Bobby and Dean finding a way to kill Lucidity, the creature that slips into people's minds and basically holds them captive. At the end of the chapter, Sam fell onto the ground and has eight minutes until his injuries kill him. Not good. I made the Lucidity creature and rituals up- I'm clever, right? No? Where are you going?**

**Any medical/hospital facts that seem false probably are. I'm a fanfiction writer, not a professional Wikipedia article editor on medical facts.**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter and as always, any reviews, PM's, follows and favourites are greatly appreciated.**

"Quick, Dean!" Bobby shouted, trying to get the younger hunter's attention. Dean paid no attention to the older hunter and continued to stare at his brother. Dean began to shake, and Bobby swore. Dean couldn't go into shock now- not when his brother needed him most. After a few more failed attempts of getting Dean to listen, Bobby walked up to Dean and slapped him on the cheek.

"Snap out of it and drink!" Bobby shouted at Dean. He regretted having to shout but it was the only way Dean would listen. Deciding to obey, Dean picked up the drink and gulped it down quickly. He grimaced at the disgusting taste, and spotted Bobby doing the same. He would have laughed, if it were under different circumstances.

The two men picked up the baseball bats and looked at each other.

"Okay, we'll do it together." Bobby announced, both men getting ready for the blow. "One… two-"

There were slight grunts as the baseball bats hit flesh, and Bobby fell to the ground. Dean felt a pain on his head, but didn't pass out.

"Damn it!" he hissed, holding the baseball bat in his hand again. And with one quick glance at his brother and a swing of his hand, he was out like a light.

Dean woke up again, but this time to darkness. After eventually remembering where he was and what he was doing there, he began to stand up cautiously, hissing when the dull throb in his head got harder and more painful.

"Dean?" a voice hissed. Bobby's voice.

"Yeah, it's me." He whispered, trying to follow the source of Bobby's voice in the darkness. "Where are you?"

"Over here," Bobby said, earning an eye roll from Dean.

"Thanks for being so specific." He snorted.

"Shut up, Dean. We have about four minutes to track down this bitch and ice it. Do you remember the summoning ritual?"

Dean nodded, momentarily forgetting that Bobby couldn't see him. He forced out the nervousness- the cruel reminder that his brother only had a few minutes until he died.

"Una est, qua unum est summonitionum Dilucidum est apparere, apud unum potest sentiunt asinus!" Dean recited. When he had finished, his words were replaced by a strange hissing sound, and he felt a tingle make its way up his arm. He didn't know whether he should be relieved that it worked or scared of what was to come.

There was silence for a few seconds, before Bobby made his presence known to the monster lurking in the shadows.

"We know you're here, you son of a bitch! And we're gonna kill you for what you've done to Sam!"

Dean admired the old man's courage. Bobby could be an old, grumpy drunk but when it came to protecting the Winchesters, there wasn't anything he would not do.

Dean only had a few seconds to marvel at Bobby, as then there was a loud thump as something was thrown across the room- if you could call it a room. It took Dean to realise that something wasn't thrown- but somebody was.

Dean strained his eyes, and he could just see the glint of Bobby's metal watch. He was screwed. The two hunters had decided that to make things easier to remember, Dean would memorise the summoning ritual and Bobby would memorise the killing one. But with Bobby unconscious, that was going to be a little bit tricky to do.

He considered going over to Bobby and trying to awake him, but he could _feel_ the monster glaring at him. Definitely not going to happen.

He racked his brains, rewarded with a few words of the ritual. But it wasn't enough, and Dean couldn't remember if they went at the start or end of the incantation.

"What are you going to do now?" the dark voice chuckled. Dean briefly wondered how he knew that Bobby knew the ritual. The damn thing entered people's minds and killed them from the inside- of course he could figure out who knew what.

"Qui autem occiderit" Dean whispered. It was a stupid plan, but it might just work. As he had hoped, the creature let out a loud scream, and the tingling in his arm started to fade. He had to do something quick before the thing had to be summoned again.

He ran over to the direction of Bobby, and cursed as he tripped over the body lying on the floor. Dean's head hit the hard floor, and he felt his body relax a little.

_No!_ He told himself. _Have to stay awake… for Sammy!_

The last bit made him stand up, ignoring the pain in his head. He was filled with sudden determination. He was going to save his brother, whatever happened.

"Bobby, wake up!" Dean hissed in the old hunter's ear. He was rewarded with a stir, and sighed with relief. But it wasn't done yet. He nudged the hunter again, and could just make out grey eyes opening.

"What? Dean?" Bobby said, looking up at the young hunter.

"Bobby, we're in Sam's mind, remember?" Dean said, hoping the old man hadn't gained concussion.

"Oh… yeah. Have I said the ritual yet?"

"No, Bobby. You haven't, but you need to right now!" Dean said desperately. Sam probably had a minute left, maybe not even that.

Dean held his breath as Bobby went over the ritual in his head, silently willing him to be quicker.

"Okay, I've got it. Qui autem occiderit, hoc quidem cani-" he began, words echoing in the darkness. His words were followed by a strange strangling noise, and Dean cursed. The tingle in his arm was beginning to get quite painful. Bobby held his hand to his throat and attempted to carry on, but all that came out were hissing noises.

But Dean was prepared. He guessed that the monster was going to attempt to fight back somehow. He had listened to Bobby's words intently, memorising them.

He repeated what Bobby had said, and felt like grinning when the voice screamed, and Bobby coughed. The creature had released Bobby in his brief moment of pain, allowing the old hunter to finish off the ritual.

There were lots of strange noises following the incantation that even the most descriptive writer could not describe. The odd sensation in the hunter's wrists disappeared quicker than it had come, and then everything was quiet.

Suddenly, their surroundings changed to the hospital room they were previously in. Dean and Bobby both looked at each other. That was something none of them would forget for a while.

They didn't have a lot of time to celebrate, as suddenly the room was filled with loud, high pitched beeping. Dean frantically pressed the call button, not even noticing when the hospital staff entered, a flurry of shouts and questions and confusion.

He felt someone behind him grab him by the shoulder, and finally succumbed to his head injury, passing out into the arms of a stranger.

Lots of things happened while Dean was unconscious. He was whisked away into surgery for his head as they suspected a minor skull fracture. His brother was put on a ventilator, and then also taken away for emergence surgery. Bobby refused help at first, but then began to feel pain and accepted himself to be patched up.

The old hunter was now pacing the waiting room anxiously. The two boys were very close to him, and he had been looking at every doctor who came out of the surgery rooms, hoping to hear something on how they were doing.

"Mr Singer?" a voice asked. Bobby stood up, and followed the doctor into a room with two beds. Only one of them was occupied, and the inhabitant was Dean.

His head was heavily bandaged, and he was pale, but it was better than dead. Bobby stood by Dean's bedside, almost feeling the urge to laugh. The things that kid would do for his little brother.

Dean stirred, his eye's flickering under their lids. Bobby held his breath, waiting for the inevitable.

"Where's Sam?" Dean said before his eyes had even opened. Bobby chuckled. The kid had just woken up to a skull fracture, and his first action was to ask where his brother was.

The doctor walked over to the two men, and took a seat next to Bobby. He didn't even introduce himself- just started describing Sam's injuries.

"We are still unsure of what happened. It looks as though he fell from a large height, but he was in the hospital room the whole time. But, anyway. He has a fractured spine and skull and two broken limbs. It will be extremely hard for him to get around, but with lots of physical therapy it will get easier after a while. He has a few broken ribs, and one of them triggered a punctured lung. He is currently on a ventilator, as he is having trouble breathing, but we have no doubt that he can be removed after a while."  
Bobby and Dean sat in silence for a while, trying to keep up with Sam's many injuries.

"Oh God Sam… I'm so sorry..." Dean whispered. He seemed to be exhausted, and soon fell asleep again after that.

"He's just very protective over his brother." Bobby informed the doctor who was staring at Dean, confused. "When do you think he will wake up?"

The doctor sighed.

"We don't know. But we doubt it will be any time soon."

**FINALLY! I finished the chapter! That took WAY too long! So what did you think of this chapter? As I said earlier, most medical facts that seem wrong to you probably are. **

**I would have loved to write more but I wanted to save some for the next chapter. Yes, there will be one!**

**Bye for now!**


	7. Conclusion

**Behold- the final chapter! This was my first story created on and definitely my most successful. It's the only fanfic I have written (I used other websites) and actually completed! Thank you very much for reading, favouriting and reviewing- it really means a lot.**

**GUYS I'M REALLY ANNOYED AND CAN'T FIND THE ANSWER ANYWHERE- HOW DO YOU GET FROM RECOVERY TO YOUR HOSPITAL ROOM? ESPECIALLY IF YOU'RE COMATOSE OR UNCONCIOUS? DO THEY WHEEL YOUR BED OR GURNEY? I just had to guess, sorry if it's wrong. **

**SOME WEE!CHESTER MEMORIES AWWWW YEAH! And remember- as I said in my previous chapter- any medical facts that seem false or exaggerated probably are. **

**Enjoy! **

Bobby paced the corridors of the hospital, occasionally shaking his head and mumbling to himself. After being informed that the doctors doubted Sam would wake up any time soon, Bobby decided to go and take a walk to think about what he had been told. He tried telling himself that Sam would wake up, that he's a strong lad, but unfortunately Bobby's encouraging words did not awake the comatose hunter.

When the doctor had told Bobby that Sam was comatose, his heart dropped. Damn Winchesters- always getting into trouble. But this time, Bobby couldn't just swoop in and save Sam by exorcising a demon or killing a siren. He was helpless.

He had neglected to tell Dean that his little brother might not wake up in the near future. Dean was asleep when the doctor had broken the news. Every time Bobby decided to tell the young hunter, he took one look at the dazed, exhausted young man and swore to tell him later.

He knew Dean would want to know. Dean was the most protective sibling that Bobby had ever known, and he had met a lot of people. But Bobby just couldn't bring himself round to do it.

Bobby's eyed narrowed when a young nurse passed him in the corridor. She was awfully familiar. But where had he seen her? He shook off the odd feeling and walked over to the door handle of Dean's room/

When Bobby walked back into Dean's room, he was surprised to see the young hunter awake.

"What're you doing up, kid? You're supposed to be sleeping." Bobby told Dean, sternly but gently. He sat down on the uncomfortable plastic chair next to the bed, knowing that he would have to put up with it. He knew he would be sitting on it for a long while.

"When's Sam getting out of surgery?" Dean slurred, still on painkillers. His hand travelled to his head, where he fingered the bandages with disgust. Seeing the disapproving look on Bobby's face, he stopped and placed his hand back into its previous position.

"He's in Recovery at the moment. I persuaded them to let him stay in here with you." Bobby finished with a grin. He knew that if he didn't ask the hospital staff to let Sam stay with his brother, Dean would.

As if on cue, the door opened and Sam's bed was wheeled in, being pushed by an old doctor in his late fifties. The doctor checked all of the IV lines, did a bit more poking and prodding and then left.

Dean and Bobby sat in silence, staring at the figure in the bed.

Sam was lying still, so pale that he looked dead. Bobby had to look at the slow rise and fall of Sam's chest to convince himself that Sam was alive. He had a cast on both his arm and leg, the two limbs slightly elevated with pillows. Like Dean, Sam had a bandage around his head.

Looking at the ventilator, Bobby felt sorry for the kid. He had been on one before, and it was not a pleasant experience. He had only been conscious with it for a few seconds, but it was uncomfortable and left him with a sore throat for days.

It was silent for a minute, but then Dean said the thing Bobby had been dreading.

"When's he waking up?"

Bobby looked away, not wanting to see Dean's face when he heard the news. He was afraid that if he did, his heart would shatter into millions of pieces.

"Dean…." Bobby sighed. "They don't think he's gonna wake up for a while…" Bobby's voice got quieter as he reached the end of the sentence. When he finally turned round, he instantly regretted it. Dean was staring at his little brother, sniffing, tears running down his pale cheeks. Bobby wiped his eyes before Dean could see and left the room, mumbling something about wanting some coffee.

Dean stared at his brother, vision blurred with tears. How could it all have started with nightmares? It was all so unfair. But then again, everything to do with the Winchesters was unfair.

The word 'unfair' brought various memories to Dean's mind. Seeing as he didn't have much entertainment, he let them play in his head.

_It was summer, Sammy was ten and I was fifteen. School had just broken out a week ago and we were already running out of things to do. Dad had left on a hunt and was due to return in a few days. _

"_Dean!" Sammy had moaned. I grumbled, comfortably snuggled up in the large armchair in our motel room. "Please play with me outside!" Sam whined, trying to get my attention by poking me in the shoulder. "Pleeee-"_

"_No, Sam!" I had snapped, pushing the kid off my lap. He looked up at me with his hurt eyes bearing similar resemblance to a begging puppy's. "Just go and play by yourself!"_

_After staring at me sadly for a few more seconds, Sam stood up slowly and dragged himself out of the motel room. I watched the kid walk out of the door before shutting my tired eyes and drifting off to sleep. _

_I woke up a few hours later, yawning. "Sammy?" I shouted into the motel room. After no answer, I came to the conclusion that he was outside, either sulking or having fun. I didn't mind which. _

_I turned on the television, and was about to change channels when my ears caught a few words from the weather forecast woman. _

"_-where there have been extremely powerful snow storms. Please wrap up warmly before going outside."_

_I tried to remember what clothes Sam had been in when he left. A thin, plain brown shirt and navy blue shorts which came up to his knees._

_The kid had common sense. Maybe he came back inside to get some warmer clothes. I sighed. I might as well check just in case._

_After slipping some warm clothes on, I entered the small park next to the motel. The only noise was the old wooden gate slipping shut behind me, which was worrying. Sam was always making noise, whether he was eating, playing, doing nothing and sometimes even when he was sleeping. _

"_Sammy?" I shouted. The whole park was white, and the snow went halfway up my shin. I shivered, despite the warm trousers he was wearing._

_Maybe this was a trick. Sam was probably indoors, sniggering and lying under the bed, waiting for a very cold and pissed big brother to storm back into the motel room. I doubted it though. I usually woke up whenever the door opened; mostly hoping it was Dad coming home after a hunt. _

"_Sammy!" I shouted, louder this time. I walked, with difficulty, across the park. When I got to the other end, I was about to turn back, just to check that it wasn't a trick. But then my eyes spotted a small figure underneath the slide._

"_D'n?" a small voice shivered quietly. Sammy's voice._

_I ran towards my little brother, who was curled up in the snow. His lips were a faint shade of blue, and his face was pale. I cupped his cheek in my hand, and quickly pulled away feeling the cold temperature._

"_Oh, God kid!" I whispered as to not startle the jumpy child. "Come on, Let's get you to the hospital, eh?" I said, not expecting an answer. I scooped him up in my arms, ignoring the coldness. His eyes were firmly shut, and his breathing somewhat laboured._

"_Why didn't you come inside, Sammy?" I asked as I sprinted to the motel room. I was going to get him a bit more warmed up, and then call for help as I couldn't drive yet._

"_You… din' want me in while you slept…." Sam stuttered, shivering. _

_The poor kid spent the next few days with hypothermia, and on top of all the guilt I had already felt, Dad had come home and made it even worse. _

Dean shivered at the mere thought of the memory. They had always been unlucky, and always would be. He lay back into his pillows, sighing as he remembered another memory.

_I was 28, Sam was 23. It had been a frustratingly miserable few days, as I had a high fever and a cold. We were squatting in an old abandoned two-story house as we didn't currently have any money for a motel room. While I was upstairs in bed, Sammy was running around and doing all of the work. _

_I squinted because the lights were too bright. I could already feel a headache coming on. _

"_Sammy, run downstairs and get me some Tylenol, would'ya?" I grumbled._

"_Okay, Dean, let me just finish this-" _

"_No, Sam! Now!" I shouted, ignoring his hurt face. He sighed, and I heard him walk down the hall. "Run!" I shouted, which was soon followed by a loud tumble, and crash. _

"_Argh!" came a pained voice from downstairs. I stood up, ignoring the black dots obscuring my vision. I sprinted to the top of the stairs. "Sammy? You...ok?" I said, promptly passing out on the top step._

_I awoke to silence and an uncomfortable bed. Looking down, I realised that was probably because there was no bed. I let out a slight grumble, taking in my surroundings._

_I gasped when I spotted Sam, unconscious on the bottom step. He was sprawled out, had blood running down his face and an oddly-bent leg. _

"_Sammy!" I exclaimed. I got up slower this time to prevent my ungraceful descent to the ground. I raced down the steps until I reached my younger brother lying in a heap on the hard, dirty motel carpet. _

_He grumbled, and opened his eyes slightly. _

"_D'ya still want some Tylenol?" he asked, before passing out again. _

The Winchesters had never had much experience with luck, and when something even vaguely lucky did happen it only usually lasted for a few minutes.

Dean sighed, looking around at the clean, white hospital room. He tried to pull his eyes away from his brother, because whenever he looked at the unconscious figure on the bed, his heart shattered.

"Sammy..." Dean said to his brother. "I don't know if you can hear me. But you're gonna wake up, okay? I've lost too many people to lose you too. If you don't wake up, I'm gonna go take a stroll into that nice ocean and never come out.

"I love you, Sammy. Please wake up soon." Dean said, voice cracking. Tears made their way down his face, and he didn't find the strength to wipe them away. He sobbed, face in his hands, and didn't stop.

He didn't understand. He saved so many strangers from evil things, and all he gets is his family and friends dead.

A young nurse watched the crying man with sorrow. She had a younger brother, and couldn't bear it when he died. She tightened her white coat around her body, with determination.

She was going to do whatever she could to get this man's brother back no matter how many sleepless nights she would suffer.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

Bobby walked back into the room a few hours later to see a sleeping Dean. It was evident that the young man had been crying, with red rimmed eyes and tear tracks down his cheeks. Bobby looked at Dean sadly, and sat down on the chair.

The moment Bobby sat down, his eyes shut and the sleepless nights finally caught up with him. A few snores escaped his open mouth.

Dr Ivelot entered the room, grinning. After placing a blanket on the clearly exhausted man, she walked over to where Sam was sleeping.

She had finally gotten permission to remove the ventilator, and quickly did just so. She checked his other wounds for signs of infection, glad when she spotted none.

What nobody actually knew about the young nurse was that she was a retired hunter. And she could spot a fellow hunter from a mile away. She left the room with a smile, eyeing the blanket she had draped across the old man.

A few hours later, Bobby woke up to an itch. He grunted, opening his eyes and eyed the blanket cautiously. Why was it so damn itchy?

He turned it over, nearly missing the pocket neatly sewn onto it. A piece of paper was just visible, and Bobby pulled it out.

"_To Mr. Singer" _the tidy handwriting read, "_Are you willing to enter Sam's mind using African Dream Root? I am aware that this was performed earlier, and I am also aware that entering his mind shall be difficult due to his recent encounter with Lucidity. _

"_If you are willing, please do not tell Dean. Meet me by my office at 9pm tonight."_

The note had not been signed, but Bobby knew exactly who it was. He _knew _he had recognised the nurse in the corridor earlier that day.

Helen Ivelot was a hunter that retired after her brother died. The two siblings had kept a low profile and preferred to get the job over and done with and then move on to the next case. Bobby had met them a few years ago while on a case involving vampires, and had saved them both when a small gang of the blood-sucking creatures had snuck up behind them, fangs bared.

Bobby placed the note in his pocket, and jumped when a timid voice came from the bed.

"What's that?" Dean asked, quietly. Bobby smiled at the young man.

"Nothing, Dean. Go back to sleep." Bobby said, feeling rather guilty. He knew without a doubt that if he asked Dean to help his brother, he would say yes in an instant. But it was too much of a risk, especially in his current condition.

Dean looked at Bobby, suspicious, before shutting his eyes and drifting off almost instantly. Bobby was filled with guilt, but he knew that withholding his plans from Dean was for his own good.

The rest of the day was uneventful and quite boring. Dean had woken up a few times just to ask questions on how Sam was doing and what his injuries were. Bobby had answered each question calmly, but still felt a twinge of guilt seeing Dean's protectiveness. Bobby wondered how he was going to explain to Dean that he and another hunter had just gone and saved his brother without him knowing.

Bobby checked his watch. Quarter to nine. He knew he would have to leave slightly earlier because he didn't actually know where Helen's office was.

Bobby nudged Dean gently, waking him. "I'm just going to go to the library to get some work finished. I did have a life before you called me about Sam, you know." Bobby said, laughing. After seeing Dean's nod and experiencing another pang of guilt, Bobby walked away.

Dean lay in silence for a bit, wondering about what Bobby could be researching about. He thought about the note he had seen Bobby reading earlier.

He knew that it was probably nothing, but Dean had the feeling that the note and Bobby's absence were connected somehow. He had seen the handwriting on the piece of paper and it was definitely not Bobby's.

Filled with curiosity, Dean began to pull out the IV's. He swung his legs over the bed, ignoring the pain in his head. He stood up, waited a few seconds for himself to get his balance, and then walked out of the door.

He glanced at the clock in the hallway- five minutes to nine o'clock. That was good- not many people were patrolling the corridors.

Dean sighed at himself after realising he didn't know where to go.

"I think I should go left," he said to himself, "because left is the opposite of right. And who's right handed? Me. And I'm awesome."

Dean walked for a few minutes, peering into rooms every now and then. He decided to go back to his room after getting no result. Maybe Bobby actually was doing work. Turning around, he stopped, something catching his eye. Two people were sitting in a darkened room. This was completely normal, of course. Hundreds of two peoples could probably have been sitting in darkened rooms at that exact time. But the thing that got Dean's attention was the old man near the door, with a beard and a habit of calling people "idjits".

Yep, you guessed it. It was Bobby Singer, the same man who was supposed to be doing work at the library. Dean saw the concoction on the table and instantly knew what they were up to.

Dean's expression hardened and he stormed into the small office. Two surprised faces turned around to see a very pissed Dean Winchester.

"Dean! You shouldn't be out of bed…" the woman said sternly, visibly flinching under Dean's cold glare.

"You… betrayed me!" Dean spat, ignoring the doctor and storming over to Bobby.

"No, Dean." Bobby said, standing up and facing Dean. "Betrayal is where-"

"_I know _damn _well what betrayal is, Bobby!" _Dean shouted, his fists clenched so hard he thought his fingers were going to break. "How could you do this to me? You know how much saving Sam means to me! And you go off and do it with a stranger?" he gestured at the woman.

He knew he was overreacting, but he couldn't stop. His head was pounding with all the shouting he was doing, and the anger was obviously a result of lying quietly in bed all day and not being able to express his anger.

"Calm down, Dean!" Bobby said, placing a hand on the young man's shoulder. "You can do it with us," he ignored the glare he received from the doctor, "but you have to be careful. We can't afford for your melon to break again, ya' idjit!"

Dean shut his eyes and tried to calm himself down. "Okay." He said through clenched teeth.

A few minutes later, the dream root had been poured into three glasses, a piece of Sam's hair in each one. Bobby had introduced Dean to Helen, and they had both shaken hands, still eyeing each other cautiously.

"Dean, do you remember how this is gonna go?" Bobby asked.

Dean sighed and nodded. "We down the shake, inject ourselves with the sleepy stuff, find Sleeping Beauty, and wake up."

Bobby sighed. Dean's vocabulary was far from professional, but he knew what to do at least. The 'sleepy stuff' as Dean had put it was actually a fast-working sleep medicine.

"Well, might as well get it over with…" Helen sighed. They all picked up their dream root, eyeing it with disgust.

"Bottoms up!" they all said in perfect sync. The cool, thick and lumpy liquid glided down their throat, and gagging and slurping noises filled the room.

"Ugh," Dean said, face scrunched up as if he had been sucking on a lemon. He waited for the other two to finish. _Seriously!_ He chuckled to himself, _does growing older affect how quick you drink?_

Dean pondered over this for a second, coming back to reality when Bobby grunted "Ready?" and picked up a syringe filled with clear liquid.

Dean barely felt the prick of the needle, and grunted as the room tilted. His eyes began to close, and he swayed. He barely registered strong hands gently guiding him to the ground as he quickly fell asleep.

When Dean awoke, he was surrounded by white spots, and he seemed to be sitting on a large white rock filled with craters.

"Am I on… the moon?" he whispered, looking at his surroundings. He looked to his right to see two people as confused as he was.

"Seriously," Bobby said, shaking his head, "what is going on in this kid's messed up grapefruit?"

Dean was about to answer when suddenly the ground lurched. The part of the moon they had been sitting on began to cave in, when suddenly the ground below them split open and they began to fall in mid-air.

The black sky had been replaced with colours of the rainbow. They were now floating, not falling, and each person bore a look of pure and utter confusion on their faces.

"What is going on?" Helen asked, as a kitten flew past her.

Dean suppressed a laugh. "I don't know, but we have to find Sam!" he said, reminding the group of their target. He got no response from Bobby though, who was staring at something in the distance.

"Bobby? What is-"Helen asked, turning around to take a look for herself. And sure enough, there sat hundreds of kittens of different shapes, sizes and breeds.

"This don't make a lick of sense!" Bobby whispered. "Why the hell would Sam be dreaming about this?"

Dean had no valid answer to Bobby's question. He just knew that he would be teasing Sam for years, if he woke up.

_If._

The word took away any funniness of the situation. He straightened himself out (with difficulty, considering they were floating in mid-air), and began trying to move himself forwards. But he found himself unable to.

"How the hell are we supposed to move?" Dean shouted, frustrated.

"I don't know! I didn't get taught Flying 101 in school!" Bobby said, equally frustrated.

Dean sighed, and tried to propel himself forward. He tried moving his legs, exasperated when nothing happened.

Dean could only think of one other way. Shutting his eyes, he concentrated on moving and moving only. He willed himself to fly- and that's exactly what happened.

His body began to glide forward, and he inwardly punched the air.

"How did you do that?" Bobby asked, legs flailing wildly at his failing attempt to copy Dean.

"I don't know- I just concentrated on flying and I just… flew!" Dean said with a smile still plastered on his face from his victory. Bobby's face scrunched up in concentration.

"Need any help with that poo?" Dean laughed. Bobby ignored him.

A few minutes later, they were all gliding around easily, looking everywhere to try and locate Sam. But all they could see was rainbow colours all around them, and the floating cats meowing loudly.

"Sammy!" Dean called. Suddenly, their feet found ground and everything darkened. "Sam?" he called again, his words echoing in the darkness.

"Leave me alone…" a timid voice whispered from behind them. "I know it's not really Dean…"

Dean's heart dropped at his little brother's frightened voice. He turned around to see a hunched over figure, rocking slightly back and forth. He couldn't see much else because of the darkness, but he knew tears were running down Sam's cheeks.

"Sammy? It's me… I'm here with Bobby and a lady called Helen… she's kinda hot," Dean chuckled, trying to make Sam laugh. "We're here to get you out, Sammy…"

There was a sigh. "Very convincing. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were actually Dean. But you're not. So just leave me alone… please."

This time, the exasperated exhale came from Dean. This was proving to be harder than he anticipated. He placed a hand on Sammy's shoulder, stroking his hair. Sam flinched, but then relaxed.

"Only Dean does that…" he whispered, letting out a sob. "Is that really you, Dean?"

Dean's lip trembled at how relieved Sam was at his brother's presence. "Yeah, it's really me, Sammy!" he smiled, leaning down and cradling Sam. "I'm here to save you Sammy, don't worry…"

Sam moved in closer to the embrace, sobs racking his thin body. They stayed like that for a minute, until Bobby let out a slight cough. He hated to ruin the moment, but they really had to get going before somebody from the hospital noticed Dean wasn't in bed and was actually sleeping with two other people in a small office.

Dean sniffed and helped Sam up, which proved to be easier than expected. Sam hadn't been eating solid food due to being unconscious.

"Love you, Sam." Dean whispered.

"Love you too." Sam whispered back. And then, everything began to twist and before they knew it they were back to their bodies.

Dean was the first one to open his eyes, and he sprung up. Before waiting for Bobby and Helen, he threw open the door and sprinted back to Sam's room.

When Dean opened the door, he grinned seeing the figure in the bed. Sam's eyes were open, a smile plastered on his pale face. Dean ran over to the side of his little brother's bed, and pulled him into a tight hug.

"It's good to see you, little bro." Dean whispered into Sam's untidy hair.

"You too, Dean. And…thanks." Came a quiet voice. Dean grinned and pulled away from the hug.

"So, Sam… About those rainbows and kittens…"

**And there we go! I really would have loved to do a longer scene at the end, with Sam awake, but I'm not sure if you would have liked it or not. But if you want one, I'll be happy to write another chapter!**

**This story has been the most fun thing I have ever written. I'm kinda really sad to see it come to a close, especially as it is my first fanfic on this website. **

**If you liked it, please leave a review! Also tell me if you think I should write another chapter. I'm still not sure!**

**I have another hurt!Sam (what else lmao) story in mind… I'm hoping I can try putting it down on paper soon. **

**Again, thanks for all the support. It really means a lot and I am SO grateful.**

**So, you know. Until next time!**


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